


The Disappearance Of Tommie Ryan

by Ixdigo



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate names, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Fluff, Gen, Headcanon, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Memories, Missing Persons, Multiple Possible Endings, Murder-Suicide, Mystery, Neighbors, Opposite Day AU, POV Multiple, Prepare For Suffering, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 03:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10982646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ixdigo/pseuds/Ixdigo
Summary: "Tord...................................Where is Tom?"Those two little words, and that one little name. Was enough to make the smaller Norwegian break under both pressure, and a small sense of guilt.----------Eddsworld fanfic inspired by the amazing creator of a wonderful AU, Shagirma.





	1. Prologue

Sitting alone in his bedroom, ignoring his computer as he had haphazardly walked over his pile of resting books laid out on the floor, not even giving a single damn about them as he instantly sat straight-up on my bed. He didn't care if Matt was running behind him and trying to catch up to him. It didn't matter. At this point, nothing else seemed to matter.

 

 **"EDD. OPEN UP. EDD...!"** Before he knew it, he heard the ginger knocking on the door like a total annoyance. Typical. He knew he wanted to follow him, but he foolishly ignored him after he ran into the room unnanounced and without any turning back. The banging of his fist eagerly pounding on his bedroom door and bouncing off the walls of the room, only strengthening the amount of confusion that built up in his brain.

He couldn't hear too clearly, but it also kinda sounded like Tord was there as well. But his nervous, tiny voice hadn't resounded, so there was no way of knowing what he was doing. Maybe freaked out as well, I don't know. For all I know he probably isn't there. Perhaps this was all in my mind. I want it to be all in my mind. I can't take this. God, I can't take anymore of this.

 

 _I had my hands over my face as I ducked my head, gently rocking back and forth while doing so. Droplets of water gleaming it's way into my eyes. I couldn't think clearly. I couldn't talk to Matt. I couldn't see clearly, for the liquid in my eyes was the only thing my pupils were able to view. I felt terrible, and it felt like my anxiety was two seconds away from breaking full force into reality. As if it wasn't already. My heart kept beating at an abnormal pace over and over and over again, this couldn't be happening right now. This really couldn't. He has to be alright. He has to. He can't die. Please he can't die. He's the most innocent person I ever lai_ d my eyes on _. The most precious. The most "sane". If he died everything will go to hell._

 

Everything.

I should pretty much end my life if he were-

No.

Stop this.

 

I promised myself not to get like this, why was I getting like this? He's not dead, that's foolish.

You idiot. A sly voice echoed.

 

He's dead.

 

"EDD, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR."

 

We don't know that. He replied.

 

"EDD!"

 

The knocking on the door got increasingly louder. Not doing anything to help the situation, only making the thoughts more hostile.

 

He probably is dead.

 

"EDD."

 

STOP IT.

 

This fucking "demon" in my head felt like it was never gonna shut up. I know he's a precious man-child, but dying is not something I can see. Right? Right? Somebody assure me I swear-

....

 

...

 

..

 

.

 

Matt didn't know how long he had been banging and desperately pleading for him. He knew it wasn't right after what he realized and ran off without even telling him. It just didn't feel right. No shit. Your best friend of eight years now goes disappeared and not even the neighbors know what the hell happened? That was sure to do something to someone of Edison's mental state.

"EDD!" were the only words he managed to shout out, and the only words he ever said as he continued rushing after the anxious male.

Soon after he heard his shoes quick tapping across the hardwood floor. Matthew took off running behind him, paying no mind to the quivering lip Tord who had leaned against the wall, sliding down until he put himself into a cradle position and not saying anything.

Watching as his other best friend was sprinting through the hall, until he took a swift left and unlocked the door to his bedroom. Locking it from inside and not allowing Matt (or anyone) to get in. He resorted to a lot of loud banging, followed by desperate pleas of Edd's name in order to let him in.

 

He hated this, he hated not being able to do anything. One, he had no idea what was really going on here. Two, the fact that Tord had known for two days that Tom was gone really angered him to no end. Lastly, can you imagine someone like that blue overalled boy running around without a care in the world? A chance of him being lost or harmed because of his friendly nature was burning Matt up mentally and emotionally.

To be honest, he had no idea if Edd listened to him, or was having an anxiety attack in that room and couldn't be bothered with opening the door. All Matt wanted to know was that he was okay, of course he's not, he corrected. Just a small, crack opening of his bedroom door with his light-green eye staring in his view would've been enough for him. To let him know he was breathing, alive. Because all this silence was driving him with aggravation, it almost felt like he was having an anxiety attack.

 

....

 

...

 

..

 

.

 

"H....He." his voice cracked under pressure.

 

"Speak up, Tord." The ginger harshly replied, wishing he could get straight to the point.

 

Tord nervously gulped upon seeing the duo in front of his face, here and now, he was forced to face his fears. He couldn't hide them anymore. If the red-sweathered male's pressed lips and timid expression were an indication of something horrifically wrong was taking place, his words wouldn't have even been needed to show off that sometime troubling was going on. Therefore, there was no more use to hide it anymore. It was there in their faces, revealing itself slowly like a peeling orange.

 

Matt was just a few inches away from Tord, which wasn't helping Tord's heighten fear of what was going to happen next if he didn't spill. His intimidating height and, absolutely, that baseball bat the ginger held on a normal basis. He didn't have it now, it was just a thought.

 

Surprising enough, his eyes were entirely glued on Matt's offending presence. But moreso on Edison's, who wasn't doing anything besides standing and watching what was going on. Tord couldn't judge anything from his facial expression, and that concerned him.

 

Edison wasn't the clearest person to understand. Either he was huddled around with his friends like he normally is, or hanging around with comics and books and not paying any mind. Tord never had a problem with it all, no one did. However, this felt different, he had literally no idea what was going through his mind. And that lightly terrified the poor male more than what Matt could possibly do.

 

"Tord...........................

 

 

 

........Where is Tom?"

 

Those two little words, and that one little name. Was enough to make the smaller Norwegian break under both pressure, and a small sense of guilt.

 

"He's missing."

 

"Since when?" Matthew harshly cut him off, with a tone of anger, fear, and disbelief.

 

Tord went quiet for a second yet again.

 

"Since...........Two days ago."


	2. Pastel Memories - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Background for the group of guys and what their everyday life is like (From Edd's P.O.V of course)
> 
> At least, more like an idea of what it's like.
> 
>  
> 
> Plus memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::If your wondering where Tord's memory is, it's because his memory ties to the "The End" storyline. (Yes, this story takes place Post-The End). And therefore it was fitting for Part 2 of "Pastel Memories"::
> 
> I was considering putting it here, but then I was like "nah"

He could feel the glowing sunlight reach out through the window, cascading solar light into the apartment room.  The curtains revealed to be slightly open, allowing the sun's flaring rays to flow in the living room. Feeling the tiny bit of solar heat reaching his shoulders. Edison sighed, realizing Mathias-er, Matt. Had forgotten to close the blinds fully, a small crack of the open window peaking through, letting a small (albeit very bright) shade of light to flow through. He tried to ignore it for a little while, trying to not let that meaningless peak annoy him, but he just couldn't. He sighed with a hint of annoyance as he got up from the chair and went over to close the curtains, before quickly making way back to his earlier sitting position.

Before opening up and going back to the previous place of his book, he looked around a little in his apartment and thought to himself. Peace and quiet, yes, "peace and quiet". It was an odd feeling to him, as he repeated that saying once more mentally. Living in a house with an eccentric twenty-year old, a rough-around-the-edges gingerhead, and a silent, nervous man. It was an understatement to say that these peaceful times were abundantly rare. And times that Edison did have time to himself, which was sometimes a useless occasion, Edison would not hesitate to relinquish in his spare time. Meditating his mind to a sense of relaxation and putting himself at ease.

Not feeling the need to question this calming sensation, Edison's face lit up slightly as his finger turned the page to where it was before. His eye's gliding through the words of the book as he too, felt at peace with the world. He sighed once more, this time with a hint of clarity. Resting back in the couch as he flipped to another page.

"HEY, WHO LEFT THIS CANDY BAR UNDER THE COUCH!?"

"Oi. What candy bar-" The ginger's sentence discontinued as he saw Thomas' clasping the wrapped candy in his hand. Imaging all the places he had possibly got it from, as his brain imagined the floor he shuddered internally. Rushing straight over to Tom from the kitchen. 

 

His hands closed the book rather too quickly, this time the place where he left in the page now lost. Now he was going to be forced to find exactly where he left off. Damm it.

 

"M-Me....I forgot where I had left it. I'm Sorry..." A North-European accent mumbled, appearing out of the blue was a red-sweathered individual. A tone of sincerity and apologetic in his voice.

 

Edd's left eye twitched a bit.

 

"Thomas I swear to god if you eat that-"

 

Ooooooof course. For once when he actually has time for himself, and total privacy. His roommates must have the decency to correct that standpoint. Leaving Edison in the midst of their mindless turmoil that they caused in almost every minute, of everyday. Mostly all of the scenarios with Edison included, in fact, there wasn't a minute where he never was involved somehow. 

 

"Preeeeety Pleeeeease, Matt!" The twenty-four year old man with blue overalls pouted to the taller male, begging for him to let him have this piece of chocolate bar, just this once. 

 

The ginger male whose name was mentioned stood visibly taller than the smaller man. Gripping the chocolate candy bar with the palm of his hands, a little too hard, by the looks of it the ginger was crushing it. "Eww no. Tom, that's fucking disgusting." he curtly replied, still clutching onto that one piece of chocolate wrapped candy.

 

Desperate actions turned into desperate measures for the enthusiastic man-child as after two minutes of begging and pleading the male was now ontop of the ginger, tackling him to the ground and trying to tickle him out of giving up that precious piece of candy. The ginger still kept fighting back, he knew what damage Tom was capable of when he got sugars or caffine in his system. Let's just say, he didn't want to unleash that on the world again. Mumbling curses after curses as Tom wouldn't seem to let up, he wasn't all that ticklish. Except for certain areas. 

The one male who was watching it all stood in the background, questioning whether to help his best friend achieve his goal or save Matthew from his current "situation". In the blink of an eye, he remembered that this was most of his own doing and started randomly spewing out apologies. Deciding to help lift Tom off Matt and save him, regretting that case of loss memory as to where the bar even was to begin with.

Meanwhile, Edison remained glued to the couch, not mumbling any words as his left eye kept twitching every two seconds. His facial expression contorted into something more angered and full of frustration. His grip on the medium-sized book suddenly tightened as he heard all the commotion erupt from behind him.

 

Soon he relaxed his tense state, refiguring his straight-ward posture with his eyes briefly closed. He calmly rested the book on the coffee table facing him and he began to stand up. Looking to the chaos that was taking place before him. He took a deep breath as he wondered over to it's direction. Grabbing the chocolate candy from under Matt and held it in his hand, somehow throughout the play fighting Matt and Tom were doing he skillfully managed to snatch up the candy bar without them knowing.

Tom, however, did manage to see Edison take the candy bar and abruptly stopped his tickling episode and immediately unraveled his arms from the ginger and stood up in order to face Edd. Whose finger tips holding onto the candy bar sent it to only one destination: The garbage can. With the most unimpressed face as he did so. 

 

Feeling tears about to buildup as he witnessed the candy bar's sudden dramatic plop into the other brands of trash. Tord and Matt watched interested in the outcome this result would have. Obviously, if it wasn't Edd who done it, Matt was close to doing it as well. Tord nervously began bitting his fingers, as Matt's expression remained unchanged.

 

Whipeing incoming tears with his light-blue sleeve, Tom was a couple of seconds away from crying, but he wanted to hide it. It was obvious whenever Thomas was upset, but he wasn't the type to let the tears flow head-on (at first, until like five seconds in, he'd start bawling).

"Here."

Without warning, Edd whipped up another chocolate bar he kept hidden mysteriously in his right pocket. This chocolate bar was something along the lines of "sugar-free", although there was no way of Tom being able to taste it otherwise. He just wanted some chocolate.

Tom smiled receiving the new chocolate bar as he plopped it directly in his mouth, teeth grasping onto it and chewing it happily. Matt rubbed the back of his head with relief. On the other hand, Tord let out a deep sigh and started apologizing for them having to go through one of Tom's sweet mission. Promising not to misplace the candy bar again.

Edison cracked a small smile at Tom, which was actually a result of mixed emotions. Tom didn't have to unleash his, as Matt would call it, "Sugar Hell". He was still his happy and normal self. And Edison could, at long last, have the time to himself that he yearned for. At the sight of the new found calmness at this second, Edison turned back to the coffee table, grabbed back his book, and left out towards his bedroom. It was probably better to read there instead.

Edison often wondered why he even put up with these guys. Just living here was sometimes enough to peak up his hidden anxiety that he tried to keep others from seeing. Due to the fact that he was viewed as the "leader" of his gang of best friends (despite not once asking for such a role), he would try to conceal any doubts that he had and attempt taking things more head-on. Although he had many more flaws than anyone could imagine. 

Well...There was Matt. 

 

Even if he tried to hide his feelings, Matt could see past any facade that was placed in front of his place. Heck, Tord once called him the human lie-detector once. Edison couldn't doubt that rumor wasn't true. Therefore, Matt was the only other person who knew about Edd's anxiety. After all, Matt was annoyingly persistent as hell. He was determined to find out anyways.

 

However, something about seeing the way Thomas' eyes lit up at receiving that candy bar. Warmed Edd's heart in a way.

 

Despite the rest of the gang, Tom was the truly "opposite" figure who kept it all together most of the time. He was never the type to cry, unless it genuinely upset him for a reason. He questioned whether he almost cried for the candy, then shrugged his shoulders. Nonetheless, Tom was a....interesting person.

He questioned how he even managed to do it, being the one playful and joyous figure in the room while he was surrounded by people who were the opposite of him. That's why they tried to protect him, so to speak, for without him. Who knows what type of madness would ensue, what kinds of disfunction would occur, what kinds of-

 

No, stop it, just stop it. Slow down Mr. Your getting a head of yourself, you ALWAYS do that. STOP.

 

For once the voice in his head was right. The point being, Thomas was a special guy, he mattered more to them then anyone could know. He brought happiness to their lives, in some sort of way. It was like he was there child. Which was a crazy thing to say, considering this was a twenty-four year old man who kept the mentality of a fifteen year old. But that didn't matter, not that anyone really cared about his personality. He still was a precious person with a good heart.

"Mreow"

Ringo used this time to rest beside his owner sitting on the bed, resting his legs and body as Edd gently began petting the small cat, purring in response to his touch.

 

Good god if someone were to cause him pain......

*******

"-You better not pout I'm telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to toooown!" Edison couldn't stop a huge grin from breaking out on his face. Thomas was big about Christmas. He loved the season more than most kids, since he kinda acted like one, and took full advantage of the general highspirits that were floating around this time of year, wishing every stranger on the street a happy holiday and singing carols at the top of his lungs.

 

Unfortunately, this singing was also heard by the guys who lived close by next door. Who Edd was concerned would not too much enjoy Thomas' endless carols. 

 

Needless to say, Jon.

 

Hunger winning out against the desire to remain invisible, Edd snuck into the kitchen, his view of Thomas blocked by the fridge door, the boy rummaging around inside.

"Ah! Finally!" he stood up, holding a carton of eggs. "Oh, hey Edd!"

 

Edison gave his enthusiastic roommate a little wave. 

 

Or you could say hello, you grinch. 

 

His lips began to curve upwards, managing to make what appeared to be a smile towards him, still remaining silent. 

 

 

Better. 

 

********  
He attempted not to get too focused on the smell, for doing so would probably force him to get up and devour wherever the sweet, pleasant scent was coming from. 

 

"Mmm...Snickerdoodles" whispered Thomas, who was also keen on the smell and looking around, trying to figure out where the smell came from.

 

Thomas turned on his heel as he saw Matt crossing his arms and trying to maintain an emotionless face, oblivious to his internal struggle.

 

"Aren't your favorites Snickerdoodles?" He said, gesturing to the cookie jar on top of the fridge with a freshly baked batch of cookies. Snickerdoodles amongst the pile of dairy sweets. 

 

Great, he had to mention it. 

 

Matt assumed Edd must have baked them, either that or Tord. But Tord wasn't the greatest of cooks, he surely wasn't the best of bakers he knew. Besides, Tord doesn't even live there anymore, why did he come up in his mind?

Never mind, Thomas' still is not going to back down. And this strange need for that cookie was breaking his standard at every turn. 

 

He was forced to submit to both of their desires.

 

He sighed in failure.

...

 

"If I give this to you. We must share half."

 

"Half it is!"

 

"Seriously, it's like your addicted to these things." Matt teased.

 

"Wouldn't you?" He teasingly retorted.

 

"No, I'm.......not into sweets like that." Some of that was the truth, some of it an outright lie.

 

"Eh, whatever. I still love them!" 

 

Watching as Tom pratically stuffed the half-piece cookie into his mouth, not giving a chance to savor it. Matt stared at the cookie, before plopping it in his mouth. Smiling as he relished in the cookie's texture and adorning taste. There was nothing like it.

 

All that ruined that moment was Tom's eager staring at him, cracking up a smile towards the ginger, he hadn't seen him smile like that before.

 

"Your weird as hell." He mumbled while still chewing the cookie, internally laughing at Tom's childish curiousity.

*****


	3. Pastel Memories - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A classic tale retold doesn't soften wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--The Last part of Pastel Memories before all the other stuff starts happening, decided to save Tord's part as last since it kinda hints at what probably would have happened to Tom- Or not, that's your guess.-

Before they had known it, he had returned. 

 

"Tord! Your back!"

 

 

Thus beginning an original tale, to a once-told story that probably happens all the time.

 

Person leaves friends, friends miss person, person returns home.

       

Simple, rolls off the tongue, there. 

 

Happy ending.

 

That is, if you take the story like that and not look into the "in-between"s, then yes. Happy ending.

 

The thing is, a story like that may be short and sweet, but it also overlooks the reality.

 

A reality that wasn't all sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows like he hoped.

 

...

 

Edison welcoming him with a warm embrace as he introduced him back to the rest of his old gang. Which surprised the younger male, since Edd is a keen advocate of "no physical contact", but this day was enough to coerce Edison into the idea. Of course, Edison was the type of person to keep to himself most of the time. But this time was relatively different, recognizing the boy that both intrigued Edd and worried him at the same time with his consistent nervous nature. It was no wonder why Edd would feel relieved when he "unexpectedly" returned. 

 

Matt was still his typical self, as usual, the older ginger was not as emotionally excited that he had returned. But after remembering the little bang on the side of his face, and his comfortable red sweater he normally wore. The ginger got use to the fact, although the little Norwegian's antics were enough to ignore the male, he still felt like his presence was the needed factor to their "gang", otherwise it would've felt like a pact of four without the fourth guy, or something like that.

 

Tom was the most excited to see him the most, running straight towards him and squeezeing the life out of the poor male. He had known this was Tom's way of showing affection, even though his tough hug was almost killing him. In fact, Tom was the first one to see him pear through the door. Allowing himself in upon seeing that A, the door was conviently unlocked and B, no one was there to see him or stop him. A reasonable person probably would've freaked out and almost attack the male out of common sense, but Tom had managed to see through the shadow and without warning started hugging him. Not suspicious about where he came from at all, he was just estatic his best friend of eight years had returned.

 

He expected this, since he hasn't been with his friends for....a while actually. Leaving for the, "big city", after coming to terms that England wasn't exactly the place for him to be. Yes, he was a reserved and easily scared-trigger of a man, but he also had goals. He had dreams of his own, or at least he thought he had goals. He wasn't the type to put a lot of thought into what his future held, on occasions he would mutter it to whoever bothered to listen to his quiet rambles. But truthfully, he had no idea what he was going to be doing for the rest of his life.

 

Tord never knew what he had done to deserve this much welcoming and affection, yet he had gained it. Gained it from people who he abandoned for years and now here they were, gathering alongside him and acting like that never happened. Like in some little way, it didn't matter. Because he assumed it didn't.

 

These were the people he was friends with, these three group of guys who, although sometimes striking fear into the younger male, still considered him one of their own. Despite Tord and his significantly small persona, compared to their other variety of personalities, was something that made Tord feel like a fish out of water. And the other fish was so much bigger and stronger than him. Surprisingly, they never treated him like that, like a stranded fish in a wide ocean. 

 

Now here he was, coming back, and being welcomed back into the house he once called home a long time ago. And he was at ease, he was happy, they were happy. End of story. 

 

 

The only thing Tord wished happened differently was that, this story ended well. 

 

Because it surely didn't.

 

 

In fact, Tord didn't know how the story could of ended, since even now, it still wanders in the back of their minds like a repeated mantra. Poking out it's little head whenever someone bothered to ignore it from being mentioned, dear god, did he wish it was that simple. That simple to wash it away, even now, he wished it turned out differently. That he could've made better decisions and not fall into that plan, that he didn't feel like they were watching his moves, trying to make sure he didn't turn that dark corner again.

 

 

After going through with the plan Pau and Pat sent for him, he couldn't do it, he had gotten all this far and made it all this way just so he can prove his self-worth to the army. Yet he still couldn't do this one thing. 

 

This one thing that would drive his friends, Tom, hell-the whole world away from him. And drive the people of The Rød Army to him, proving that this scaredy-cat Norwegian was strong, strong enough to be considered leader of the free world. The "RED" leader.

 

All he had to do was one thing, a thing that would've been simple for someone of his calibre. And everything would fall naturally into place.

 

Kill them.

 

And he failed.

 

He failed severely.

 

Backing out at the almost to last second, making his quote on quote "teammates" fend for themselves, Tord realized how power-hungry he had gotten, the thrill of finally being in control and how strong-willed he had became. He admitted, he loved it. It was something he had never felt before, and he swore to a hellhole that he was gonna give it up. And that sickened him, it sickened him to the core how he was denounced to becoming this monster. This monster in chains.

 

Was it his fault? Course it was, he assumed and pretty much every outsider most likely agreed. He allowed them to do this.

 

He was only a soldier, wanting to be something more. 

 

They promised him, everything.

 

He allowed them to control him, to fill his head with a bowl of lies. 

 

 

He allowed them to break him. As if he wasn't already torn apart from the inside out.

 

 

He was a play thing, for their agendas, for their goals, for their future. And to hell with his own happiness.

 

 

Not that he deserved any.

 

•

 

•

 

•

 

Tord still remembers that day, time heals all wounds, people say. Well, either time was taking it painstakingly slow, or ironically that time was only making the memory more inevitable and worsen. Tord didn't bother to figure out which made more sense. 

 

He doesn't even know where his "teammates" had gone, did they leave the country? Did they die in the remnants of the destroyed robot? Were they going to be out for revenge? Tord didn't know, and he didn't even want to feel bothered to know, everything just scared him. Scared him as he felt their words and lies creeping up into his skin, warming its way back into him like the very ones that got him into the mess. And still kept him there. 

 

Often times after this, Tord would just break down and cry, loud sobs ricocheting off the walls within the house, within the comforts and horrors of his own room. Even after repenting and coming to terms with his involvement in the matter, similar to everyone else doing the same thing. 

 

Perhaps he should've been glad that no one had died, because if someone DID die he probably would feel a hell of a lot worse than what he was feeling right now. Yeah he was still feeling terrible about the whole thing to begin with, and the fact that there weren't any casualties didn't soothe the notion. But it made things easier, he supposed, still doesn't erase the fact that many people could have died, but sorta easier.

 

He wonders why they took him back in, why they felt like risking their lives to trust someone like "him" again. Knowing now that the nervous, North European boy was much more stronger than how he acted and appeared. Why in the world would they want to take a chance again?

 

And that is how Tom found him, cradled up in his bed with a dull expression on his face. He could have freely walked in his room, with the door conveniently unlocked and a slip of it peeking open to the bedroom. However, Tom assumed that probably wouldn't have been the best idea. So he just stood there for a minute, his little black "eye" peeking in the slip of the cracked-open door. Watching Tord from a small distance, only to eventually be made aware of his presence as he looked up from his position. Turning his head over towards the pastel blue man with suspenders.

 

All Tord could think about was that blackout he made from when that day occurred, that inducement of power going straight to his head, not knowing which way was right and what was wrong. Turning his head around he could see a little black area peeking through his door, he realized he hadn't bothered to fully close his bedroom door, funny how the past can show up in little ways.

Before he knew it the door was now cracking open, recognizing that the person was Tom, not that he didn't figure that out anyways. He just wanted to see what he was going to do, he wouldn't be surprised if he was checking on him or something.

"....Tord," comes the quiet acknowledgment, and the Norwegian ignores the concern that had leeched into his roommate's voice. Ignores the wavering quality of it. Ignores the fact that he was the indirect cause of that concern. 

"Are you okay?" Tom immediately fires off, and Tord can't help but weakly chuckle at the redundancy of the question, because he's clearly not in the exact right mood to fraternize.

"I'll scrape by," he smiles, and inclines his head the tiniest bit to the right. "How...are you doing?"

"Tired," Tom grumbles, now standing in front of the room, surrounded by Tord's different hidden compartments of antiques and inventions, and books of random manga laying around on the floor. 

"Heh, t-that makes two of us..." Tord weakly chuckled again at Tom's antics, wondering why he took the time to check on him at this second.

Tord never knew why Tom took the time to forgive him, and in time convincing the others to forgive him as well. He just couldn't understand, how Tom still had a sense of forgiveness and remorse for him despite the madness he took them through. The madness he took him through. It bugged Tord, even four months after the darn incident, and it still bothered him.

A few seconds in, and Tom had found himself sitting on Tord's bed, going into random chatter about his wondrous day and a new batch of chocolate he had received, sharing pieces of it with Tord, who was now beginning to finally crack a smile. Tom's efforts in trying to comfort him was starting to pay off.


	4. Nonchalance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
> 
> You thought this was dead, didn't you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I went ahead and brought back this series because I missed it so much freaking omg summer plans were awesome.

His breath was becoming slightly hasty, he would whiff up small amounts of air as both his hands grasped onto the weapon, refusing to face the stranger that a few seconds ago was one of his loyal henchmen, now kneeled down on the floor right in front of him. 

His gaze twisted into nothing but emptiness, and surrender, vital for a person about to witness their own inevitable death about to get handed to them. This didn't help any of the hair-horned male's discrete emotions, soon about to burst from all the pain of trying to hold it in, trying to keep himself stiffened and straightened, trying to keep himself //S a n e// despite going through what was about to be trauma for the rest of his life. This is when he knew, this must of been how leadership felt. And just staring down at this roughed up citizen was enough to make small streams of tears run down his cheeks, the expression burning it's way into his soul.

A few minutes ago, this soldier was pleading for his life, eager to be spared and willing to comply with any punishment he may receive in order to keep on being able to survive, and prove his innocence. But no. Oh no. This army didn't work like that, especially not the Rød Army. If you were even foolish enough to make one tiny issue or disrespect, you were punished severely, god help if you were found out for being a traitor. The Norwegian was forced to put up with all of this, because here at this army you had to be three things: Smart, Forceful, and Sadistic. Unfortunately, their leader was none of those things.

Even his right-hand men were downright sociopathic, one probably was more than the other, but still. This was saying something, considering how "He" was supposed to he the leader, and yet "They" were usually the ones to carry out the harsh punishments. Oftentimes, Tord would wish it was them instead that were in charge, they would do a much better job than he can, and especially here. When out of all the people who possibly could of carried out this murderous order, he had to. In a flash, he remembered why.

It was because "He" was the leader.

Back to reality, he was still here, his hand was still violently shaking with the gun in hand, nearly dropping it from all the vibrations, his heart pulse was flaring more than normal, and all he had in his nervous thoughts were the tainted words of encouragement coming from the two men standing behind him. However those words becoming more impatient and needy by the second, making him wonder if it still had merit. 

"You can do it, boss..."

 

"We believe in you..."

 

"This is what your father wanted for you, don't you wanna make him proud..? Show him how strong you are now?"

 

"Show him you're not a little kid now?"

The two last sentences haunted him deeply, eye's widening from the thought of his father's indecent judgement hovering over him like a living room ceiling fan, raining whatever insults or wild, hurtful words rolling from his sarcastic lips, brushing up against his skin. Sooner than later, a blast was heard, clutching onto the gun tightly as if it was gonna run away or ricochet fron the shot. His eyes tightly closed in an instant, buried tears rushing down his cheeks while in the moment. He lasted that way for a few minutes, until the quiet acknowledgement from Paul created a bit of sound in the room. Awakening his senses once again, he lifted up one eye and glanced at the bushy eye-browned, dangerous man. The splattered blood on his blue uniform, actually kinda fitting for him. He placed a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched from the sight of another soldiers blood clearly on his hands. 

"....Nice job, Leader." he disturbingly complimented, each word rolling off the tongue similar to a slithering snake. He gulped and kept silent, there was nothing else left to say anyways.

|| 2 Days Before ||

He and Tom were only in the theater, and the shy Norwegian's random flashbacks in the moment were distracting him from the movie that was playing, which he also kinda forgot the name of since everything went so fast while arriving he wasn't as interested into it as Tommie was, not that he didn't enjoy the movies they watched together. 

He enjoyed them all, actually, just for some reason today he wasn't feeling: "Great And Powerful Unicorns 4" anymore, he couldn't tell clearly if this was just a phase or a growing-out of it. Or maybe it was because of that strange text message he got from "Unknown" a few hours before they got here, and now internally Tord was freaking out, unable to tell Tom.Speaking of Tom, as he was oblivious to his constant soft poking and the fact that he looked like he was in a trance, he was completely silent. "Tordy..." evoked a enthusiastic voice. "...Tordy...." it cried out again, this time, rapid poking was involved.

"Tordytordytordytordytordytordytordytordytordytordytordytordy-" 

Tord shook his head and winced as a reflex, glancing at Tom with both strange confusion and surprise, before sighing and whispering "Sorry..." he said, and began to explain himself afterwards. "...I think....I started daydreaming.."

"Ooh! Was it a good dream?" He queried, and the nervous boy contemplated whether to tell the truth or lie. Lying was possibly the best way to go. "...Yeah..? I guess so-"

Tommie had fallen silent, and now he was thinking lying wasn't the best answer, besides Tom could probably sense his actions by now—"COOL! Tell me ALLL about it once we get home, okay? I. Need. D e t a i l s." Tord kept looking at him, blinking a couple times before sighing and nodding silently, even giving Tom a thumbs-up in agreement and a weak smile. He assumed that was the best way to go for now, but good things didn't always last, he knew that for certain. The two resumed to watching their little playful movie, the memory still in the back of Tord's head.

 

Two hours had managed to past, and the booked theater film was now coming to a close, most of it packed with only a lot of children and parents that brought tickets alongside them. If Tord focused enough to keep track, there had to be just a few 20 and over people without kids that arrived there, but he didn't understand statistics too well. And just like that, minutes after the sweater duo ran out of the bustling crowd of people attending the movie, they went to an ice cream stand and stocked up on some tasty treats to sooth Tom's sugar habits. Now, they were just nonchalantly walking, refreshing in the vibrant open sun and air, eating ice cream like a couple good friend-dos would do with no care in the world, out in the park all by themselves. Well, at least one of them had no care.

Occasionally, Tom would just glance at Tord and giggle a bit, but now he was just gazing at him for no reason, or so he thought. "....Sooooooo....How //was// your experience inside the army?" a question he didn't assume would one day grace his ears was now in there ringing, driving Tord's attention immediately after it was heard, followed by an awkward chuckle. "...W-What do you mean? 'Experience'?"

Tommie blinked his 'eye's' and resumed eating his ice cream for a second. "...Like, 'experience', experience? Or...Sorry I was just asking, a little.." his curious mind was peering through again.

"N-No, there's....Nothing wrong with that question..." he paused and stiffened up his composure. "...I just, didn't know you wanted to...bring it up..?" His awkward tone of voice was gradually fading, proving that during that time, he must of gained something good at least, like confidence.

After that, a discomforting silence fell, and Tommie was staring at the other boy like a hawk staring at it's pray, and his gaze was glued on Tord, completely, whisking over and booping his nose a bit, before tilting his head a little. ".....Did they hurt you in there?" He muttered, causing Tord to jump. "H-H-Hurt me..!? N-No..! Of course not, Tom..! I was their leader, they....could never do that..." he mentioned, quieting down at the last few words. Sure, they wouldn't hurt him physically, but mentally, and emotionally, maybe even verbally if they really needed to.

Soon, Tom stood straighter as well, and contorted his expression into something a little blank, but still readable for Tord to know he was being serious right now. "...You just..have seemed different since...Ya know...'The. Incident.'...And I was just a little concered...Because your my best friend, Tord- "W-what about t-" "It doesn't matter anymore. You are the best cuddly fren-good friendo I've had yet, and whoever hurts you, has to go through me..!" Tom explained, slightly posing like a dramatic superhero about to save the day in those comic books, or manga, since he got him into reading them. The Norwegian had buried tears laced in his eyes, inclining his head a bit to the side and laughing quietly, a small and a nod soon later. 

"..Thank you, Tommie."

"Your welcome!"

While standing straightened and now feeling more focused then ever, Tord brushed the side bang covering his eye just a slight, and in a little dramatic way in order to mirror Tom's posing just a few seconds ago, once his expression delighted up the small peek from his other eye before the hair fell back into place again was the sight of a figure....Or maybe..more than one figure. He immediately flinched, trying to shove Tommie out of the way just in time, and in an instant, everything went from pastel blue, to black. 

 

All he could think of to remember was laughter, then silence.


	5. Distance Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tbh Patryck is such a sadistic bastard.

His body wasn't moving, his head, nor his legs had flinched a thing as the nervous male was left there, hanging around in the cold and forgotten dirt as his one finger lightly twitched on his left hand, followed by even more twitches before it just lied there again with the rest of his silent limbs. He was still fairly unconscious, his ears beginning to ring with the noises of festive and carefree laughter.

The first thing he could wake up to and remember was the sound of laughter, then it ended, silence.

The hair-horned male's face was directly planted into the green-covered grass, mingling in with his sweater and hair, the left side of his arm bearing a small cut from whatever transpired while he was still awake and functioning, lying on the ground with no movement or consciousness. He appeared like a corpse dead on arrival, the only difference was that he still had a living pulse, steadily growing faster and faster as he started to whimper quietly, being more of an indication of his living state. He felt slightly in pain, lifting up his right eye and blinking a few times slowly, then a couple more times faster, his mentality coming back to encounter this reality. His body made certain observations that his own brain couldn't make right now, for one, he could no longer feel that warm, and refreshing heatwave that poured out of the sun, meaning that it //wasn't// the afternoon anymore and that sunset must of already fallen. 

Secondly, his hand wasn't grasping on that cooling dessert that he had brought alongside his friend, groaning as he started to move his body. He began to try sitting up on his knees first, for some reason feeling more battered and bruised than what he thought he was, his fist clasping onto a couple pieces of the still grass first, later those leaves falling out of his hands in a distorted fashion. He whimpered out even more, using one hand to situate himself and be able to stand off the ground, he muffled something barely audible and used his foot to stand up on the ground, before long he could stand up with both feet straightened, pondering if he had internal injuries or not. If he did, he probably wouldn't be able to plant his feet on the ground right now, yet he could, and thus his body possibly endured the trauma that was caused to it. 

His eye's dilated as he glanced around the park, seeing nothing but trees, and even hearing a small sound from an owl fly past his ears, stepping up a couple times across the grassy field, he didn't know what was happening right now. Rubbing his head for a minute as he struggled to stay afoot and straightened on the ground, it was a headache trying to remember the events that took place, it had to of been hours by now since the afternoon, and his mind was a scrambled mess. He winced as his foot stepped into something a tiny bit cold, but also warm to a fault, he looked down and spotted a melted ice-cream, with the cone not too far away from the it. The male's eye's widened again, his footsteps increasing as he started to run down the pathway with tears lacing his eyes. "..TOM..!" He cried out, his mindset now to racing against time abd trying to find the pastel boy he called a friend, glancing around the stranded area as he cried that name again, and again, and again, until he figured he was now lost and couldn't remember the direction they were taking back home. His running came to a halt as he fallen down to his knees again, looking downward as he cussed mentally to himself, tears streaming downward, wanting so hard to find his best friend, he didn't wish for this to be a lost cause by now, but it was getting increasingly difficult to find out his whereabouts. All he could do now was just stay there, and quietly sob, sob harder than anybody he knew could of saw him.

As the quiet forest grew lively with the whispers and whimpers from the small, and nervously eager male. Another noise soon came into play, this time reverberating as the sounds of thriving footsteps suited along with the ambiance. Tord's tranquil weeping slowing down as he pulled his face from being buried in his knees, then beginning to face upwards at a strangely familiar face that carried a resemblance. 

A resemblance that terrified him, and haunted him even till this day as his body lightly shook, but the stranger that stood ahead of him wasn't too bothered by his alarmed behavior, appearing as nonchalant and cold in the eyes as ever, because this was normal to them. The stranger glanced down at the hair-horned boy blankly, lifting an eyebrow as he gradually crossed his arms, sporting a dark blue army uniform and a long brunette ponytail. He chuckled at the boy and didn't react much towards his antics, kneeling politely and extending out a hand as his lips crept up into a wide smile, presenting how the soldier had //good// intentions. However, the Norwegian didn't fall for this act, he had fallen for way too many, he couldn't belittle himself to fall for anymore, especially as the man rolled of those three small, impactful words that made his skin crawl.

"Hello...Old friend."


	6. Distance Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How bout' we make a deal, Leader..?"

"Or...............Should I say.......//Red Leader//?" 

He paused after a decent minute, and trailed off those words as he recollected the appearance of the shy male, thinking it was bittersweet coming back to face him again, yet it had to also be at the worse of times. Ironically for him, this was one of the best of times. Finding their old leader back after all these months brought back hope to the dream, the dream of conquering the world and making it theirs to rule. At some point, he had forgotten who was really in control, but to be honest. 

Their "Leader" was never truly in control, because he hesitated, and flew away from it when it was his to grasp, and mold in his hands anyway that he wanted. In reality, he was simply too weak for it, he never deserved it. However, the kid had to be born into this life, and even if he never shown it, he was a strong human. Both mentally, and physically, just not emotionally. Back then, they were willing to break that strength out of him if they could, but now seeing him and remembering that little face that screamed isolation and pain.

He was too useless.

The Norwegian held in his breath for a decent minute, creating a sense of awkward silence between the brunette soldier and the male on the ground, holding his knees close to his chest as he boldly refused to reply, contorting his sullen expression into something mixed with confusion and rage. His eye glanced near his extended hand and he didn't grab onto it, instead, burying his hair and face into his knees, refusing to gaze back up at him again. The soldier raised an eyebrow, his lips pursing and narrowing his eyebrows, expression becoming blank, disturbingly blank. 

So much so, that Tord didn't know how to react to it, keeping his same expression and before long, the man was chuckling at a medium volume and beginning to ruffle the shy man's hair, much to his disregard. "Don't be scared of me...Boss." He spoke in an dismissive tone, almost like none of those events back then ever happened and things were just their distorted view of what was considered "Normal." at the time, and the boy's lightening eyes dulled down again, refusing everything. Not again, hell no, not ever again. This made Tord's heart pump faster, growing more unease as he lightly smacked his hand away and scooted back a bit, whimpering as their eyes were still locked in contact. The polishman winced a bit and shook that hand off, pulling it away from the male as his expression remained unchanged. He stared at it for a minute and laughed quietly to himself, of course it intimidating Tord even more. "...You're as fragile as ever, Tord." He stated, his tone now a little cold and blunt, he stepped an inch away from the ex-red leader and crossed his arms, glancing down at the male as if this was the correct spot for him to be: Inferior. "...We've missed you, Boss." he rolled off disgustingly sweet, this earning a head-shake from Tord and more inaudible and muffled noises from his lips. The soldier raised his eyebrow, growing slightly suspicious at how Tord wasn't responding to anything. "...You /do/ remember us, correct?...Me, more impor—" 

"P-Pattrick D-Dumphrey....Polish soldier, ranked the second-best of his class, right-hand man of the Rød Army, known for his organized and quick ways of getting rid of an enemy. I-Independent, and calcu—" The soldier fully named and assessed slowly began to clap his hands, short and sweet as he crept another smile on his lips. "Nice job, Tord..! I knew you wouldn't easily forget." He chuckled quietly again, resting his head on his hand as he continued to gaze at the person a few months he was inclined to call "Boss." His smiling expression swiftly went back to being vacant following Tord's own out-of-character glaring. "...I wish I had." he remarked, no longer stuttering at that point. He raised another eyebrow and gazed back at him. "...Come on, Boss, you were just as into the plan back then as we were—" 

"...Stop." 

"....Pardon?" 

He blinked his eye as his breathing became a little heavy, but it was slowly glowering at the soldier, narrowing his eyebrows as he stared defiantly towards him, knowing he couldn't hurt him, even if they wanted to. "...Stop. Calling me 'Boss'." His suggestion came out as an direct order, sealing Patt's lips as kept silent. The Norwegian glanced sideways, trying his best to ignore the man as he kept still, his knees still held to his chest. "....What happened to Tom?" He quickly asked to break the uncomfortable silence, figuring that he of all people should know, wanting to get straight to the point. "...That void-eyed boy?" he shrugged his shoulders, pausing for a second. "........He's alive. Does that count?" Tord had buried his face downward again, his voice beginning to deepen as he struggled to keep a straight face. "So you do know what happened to him..." His words came out a little muffled, but they were still clear enough to hear. "I...Will just have to stop you right. Here. Now, before you start thinking I conjured some, /elaborate/, plan to get you back on our side. Well....That may or may not be true." He steadily replied, running a hand through his hair.

"..Stoppe jævla nølende og fortell meg hvor er han."

He kept silent, before speaking again and crossing his arms, walking distances around Tord as he began explaining what has been happening the whole time. The frightened boy wishing he was more brutal in order to face him and acquire revenge, but, not when he desired the need for answers.

"...Me and Paulen tracked down your whereabouts down here, much earlier than today. Weeks. The original plan was to corner you and bring you back to the old base, and show you what you missed out on." He paused and stiffened up, his tone deepening with the next sentence he created. "....However, Paulie went along and had other ideas..."

Tord went back to cowering and whimpering again, mumbling silent as his body shook hearing what he mentioned. "I-I d-don't care about that. I just need to know where is Tommie—" 

"Your naive friend is safe, Tord." A pause, and the nervous male was already taking a relieved breather, hope was still poking it's useful head around, maybe. "....For now, at least, unless Pau wants to be dense and tries to kill him." the polishman chuckled at Tord's terrified appearance, and his eyes beginning to stream tears of total horror again. He waved a hand in dismissal again, shaking off Tord's brewing doubts. "I'm only joking, that man may have the mind of a serial killer, but he isn't a dumb fucker." He paused and kept his gaze locked on the sweatered boy again. "..For now we've just always been a duo, me and him, we listen to one another. That means, if I gave him the 'OK' to murder, he most likely would." This didn't help Tord's feelings at all, in fact, it only made them worsen. "...So, on that note." he glanced back over his shoulder and abruptly stopped his aimless striding, smirking as Tord blinked once more. 

"...How bout' we make a deal, Leader..?" He casually suggested, and Tord had a strange feeling he knew exactly where this was going.


End file.
